


vying for the devil's attention

by Sweetsourwolf



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Far From Home
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Beck catches the FEELS, Bottom!Peter, Dirty Talk, Dry Humping, Emotional Manipulation, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, MJ and Ned are hella confused, Nick Fury is done with them both, Peter tries to seduce him, Quentin Beck is still an asshole, Rimming, Undressing, Voyeurism, bottom!beck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetsourwolf/pseuds/Sweetsourwolf
Summary: Quentin Beck was a man with a plan. Unfortunately for him, so was Peter Parker.





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t think his day could get any worse. Not only was he soaked to the bone, with his suit sticking to his skin uncomfortably, but his shoulder hurt and he had several bruises on various parts of his body.

Also, after he’d had a quick change he’d be forced to return on his class trip and pretend like nothing had happened. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of a nice meal with his friends, then again he’d rather just pass out at the hotel.

“Hi there, kiddo. Raining out there, I see?” Peter craned his head around Nick Fury who he was currently following to the person in front of them.

Beck was lounging at a desk and looked up at them in interest as they walked up. Fury payed him no mind as he pointed to the clean clothes laid out for Peter on the next desk. There was also a glass of water that Peter was more than thankful for.

“As soon as you’re ready, we’ll bring you back to your group,” Fury simply said, leaving him to it. Peter watched him go, heavily aware of him and Beck staying behind.

“Rough day?” the man asked in a way that must’ve passed for sympathy. Peter however couldn’t help but hear the humor in the man’s voice. It meant he must’ve really looked a hot mess.

“Yeah,” he breathed, dropping his mask down onto the desk and starting to undress.

Pieces of hair fell in his eyes and he felt water droplets run down his face. He was able to remove the upper part of his suit, which was quite an accomplishment as the thing had vacuum sucked itself to his body.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Beck eyeing him and he realized that he’d gotten way to comfortable undressing in front of people. _Weird part of the job._

However, Beck did _not_ look away. Peter could feel his eyes roaming over him, which sent shivers up his spine that he pretended were from the chilliness in the room.

A flush appeared high on his cheeks as he was accurately aware of his nipples hardening. He swallowed nervously and licked away a droplet of water that ran down his lips.

He swore he could see Beck tense up as the older man rubbed his fingers over his own mouth, pretending to be in thought.

_What thoughts were those exactly, Peter wondered._

His hands were trembling when he used them to push the suit further down his hips, until they clung obscenely low, showing off his slim waist and flat stomach. Just a tad further and he’d expose the hair that _leads to his –_

A sharp pain shot through his right arm and Peter let out a noise of pain involuntarily.

“You okay?” Beck said.

Peter forced a sour smile and nodded quickly. _Smooth, Parker. Real smooth._

He opted to halt his seduction and drink some water instead, and even that felt voyeuristic in some way as he knew the other man was still observing him.

Peter’s curiosity was the best of him when he imagined what Quentin Beck would look like underneath _his suit. Did he ever even take that thing off? He’d have to…_

Another sharp pain almost made him drop the glass when he reached out to put it back down. His arm was killing him now, and he cringed which did not go unnoticed by the guy he was fantasizing about mere seconds ago.

Beck didn’t bother to ask this time, just sauntered over to him to inspect his arm. “It’s nothing, really,” Peter argued.

“Let me have a look, I insist,” the determined tone along with the way he took hold of Peter’s arm made him feel warm in his lower belly.

Beck placed his hands strategically along the boy’s arm, pressing and kneading and Peter had to hold back several very unmanly squeals.

Beck placed a hand on his shoulder next and it was painstakingly obvious now how close they were and Peter's state of undress.

_“Reallyyoudon’thavetodothisitwillhealonit’sown-”_

And then Beck pressed and twisted at the same time and Peter couldn’t hold back a choked off _embarassing_ whimper of relief as the pain slowly started to subside to a dull ache.

“There you go,” Beck said, his breath warm again the side of Peter’s face.

“T-thanks,” the boy muttered, too ashamed to even look him in the eye.

“Anytime,” Beck replied rather cheeky. He brushed a finger underneath Peter’s chin, in what must’ve been a reassuring gesture, but it got him oddly more aroused in a way.

When he did muster the courage to look up, he caught Beck checking him out, the man’s gaze coming to rest on his wet naked chest.

And Peter felt powerful in a way that had nothing to do with his Spider-Man powers or suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know diddly-squat about Marvel or any of the movies except for Spider-Man: Far from home obviously, and I alos watched it online with bad audio and visuals. Meaning I have much to nothing of knowledge on the subject, I don’t even know where the fuck Nick Fury took Peter when he met Mysterio, was it an underground lair? A cave? IDK I just shipped them and wanted them to bang yolo
> 
> Thinking of making this into multiple chapter; several attempts of Peter to get Mysterios attention?


	2. Chapter 2

Quentin Beck was a man with a plan. Unfortunately for him, so was Peter Parker.

It had been easy enough to win the boy’s trust, but along with that came a feeling of attraction, and one might even call obsession that Beck had not been prepared for.

He found himself more often than not distracted by the hero’s beauty. The way he moved, spoke, looked. All of it was a constant distraction he couldn’t escape from.

His limbs were long and somewhat gangly at times, but there was also an elegance when the boy tried. Like right now…

Parker was lounging on a sofa, knees up and with his arms behind his head as he listened to what Fury had to say. Beck was in fact not listening, not at all.

He let his eye roam shamelessly over the young man’s body, still clad in his Spider-Man suit. THAT DAMN SUIT. He didn’t know if he loved or hated the thing. He’d be confused on whether to send a thank you card or an angry letter to Tony Stark if he wasn’t dead.

Beck was half convinced that it was the reason Stark had gifted him the suit in the first place. Just to ogle the adolescent boy in a skintight suit that hugged his every curve. _Dirty old man_. Then again, _people in glass houses…_

In his defense, Beck had never thought of himself as a good person.

He was also very aware of the way he subtly turned his body more towards the sofa, so he’d have a better view. Just in time to witness Peter throw one of his legs over the back of the sofa.

The material of the suit stretched tight across the younger man’s thick thighs, and his eyes followed them upwards towards the crotch area -

_Fuck. Shit. FUCk. SHIT._

“Beck, you still with us?” Fury’s voice managed to put Beck’s sick and inappropriate thoughts to rest for a second.

“Yeah,” he replied. _He sure as fuck was not._

Fury didn’t seem to really care either way as he continued talking as if nothing had happened.

Beck waited an appropriate time to glance back over to Peter but found himself meeting the boy’s eyes this time. Those lovely warm brown tones that shone golden when he got excited about something.

Down he went, to the perfect round little tip of his nose and the cute freckles that adorned it. And then those lips. Those rosy lips that always seemed to be glistening, almost begging for Beck to put his mouth on them.

Those cheekbones. Perhaps the most prominent feature of his face. The full round cheeks, that always gave the impression he had something in his mouth. _Well, if it was up to Beck…_

_He was going to burn in Hell._

It wasn’t his fault that Peter Parker’s face was downright _obscene._

All of a sudden, Beck noticed the curving of the ends of those lips up into a smile. Peter was acutely aware of Beck’s staring. How long has he known?

Then the little fucker decided to torture him further by _arching his back,_ all the while keeping eye contact with Beck and biting his bottom lip like a porn star. Beck could clearly make out the shape of his chest and biceps, all toned muscle which he’d bet was smooth and soft to the touch.

_For fuck’s sake._

_This kid was going to be the end of him._

“Alright, that was pretty much it, see you all later tonight,” Fury finished, perhaps finally realizing that no one was paying any attention to him.

Peter jumped up, ran a hand through his chestnut hair and walked off like, feigning innocence except for the sexy wink he gave Beck as he passed him.

Beck dug his fingers into the arms of his chair, desperate to dig them into something else. He was not going to admit that he watched Peter’s ass all the way until he left.

\---

Beck cornered him against a wall that same evening. He used his forearm to lean against the stone, making full use of their height difference.

“What was that all about back there?”

“What do you mean?” He might be playing coy but the mischievous gleam in his eye betrayed him.

“Don’t play dumb, Peter.” Beck got even closer, the tone of his voice getting softer as he did.

“Didn’t you enjoy the show?” Peter looked up through strands of hair. It would look so disheveled every time he’d remove his mask. Beck wanted to run his hands through it, bury his fist into it and pull…

“Was all of that just for me?” Beck asked, fully enjoying the way the boy’s cheeks turned pink in response, as if he knew what Beck was thinking.

“Nah, I was trying to seduce Nick Fury, you think it worked?”

Beck chuckled at that, but the humor quickly faded once he felt the boy’s hips press into his own.

“That sharp tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble, kid.”

“Maybe that’s what I want, Mr. Beck.”

“Quentin.”

 _“Quentin,”_ Peter let the name roll off of his tongue in the most delicious way. He angled his head up, had to stand on his fucking toes to actually reach Beck.

 _“Fuck,”_ Beck whispered, their mouths so close now that their lips touched lightly when he spoke.

“You’re _fucking gagging_ for it, aren’t you?”

 _“Please,”_ Peter begged, his eyes half lidded and Beck couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He crashed their mouth together and buried his hand into Peter’s hair, deepening the kiss.

Peter was unexperienced just like he expected, but he was also eager to learn. The boy tried to touch him everywhere he can, run his fingers over his biceps and shoulders, as if he wanted to map out his body.

Their teeth knocked into each other and the kiss was wet and a bit sloppy. It felt so dirty and it made Beck’s cock strain inside his pants. “Wait,” he said out of breath and too turned on to focus. “Slow down, kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter replied, practically grinding down on Beck’s thigh. His mouth was red and swollen, and his cheeks were a dark burgundy color, to the point that they seemed almost bruised. Beck liked that look on him. _Fuck. He’s really going to burn in Hell now…_

“I’m sorry if I’m doing something wrong, I don’t – I’ve never -”

Beck grabbed his face, made him look at him when he said: _“No, you’re perfect, absolutely perfect.”_

He kissed him once again, forced his thigh further between Peter’s spread out legs. _He was going to ruin him. Destroy him. And then put the pieces back together._

“Knew you’d feel good,” Peter broke the kiss to confess shyly, a dopey grin on his face.

“Yeah?” Beck said, kissing him along his mouth and jaw. He knew he was going to leave him with beard burn. Marking him. Something he couldn’t hide.

And Beck took the opportunity to finally let his hands roam all over Peter’s body. He grabbed the younger man’s ass, squeezed it tight, encouraging Peter to continue riding his thigh.

“Oh, Mr. Beck,” Peter moaned, clearly close already.

“That’s it baby, keep going,” Beck said, before sucking on the sensitive skin of the teen’s neck. He tugged at the fabric covering Peter’s upper body, and ripped it down and off his shoulder so he could plant his mouth there. He sank his teeth right between where his neck meets his shoulder.

Peter whined and hid his head into Beck’s chest as he came hard. Beck felt his whole body shiver with the force of it.

“There you go, sweetheart. I got you,” he whispered soothingly, rubbing over the boy’s back.

Peter looked so fucked out and tired, but he still seemed excited when he lifted his head.

“Wait, I-I want to suck your cock.”

Beck had to hold back to not come right then and there.

“Damn, you sure?”

But Peter was already sinking to his knees, reaching inside Beck’s pants to take out his throbbing dick. Beck cursed when Peter unceremoniously and without any warning just wrapped his lips around it.

Somehow he was better at it than Beck would’ve thought. Perhaps because his throat was loose and relaxed now, or maybe he was just a natural.

Beck watched intensely as his dick disappeared into his mouth, over and over again. He rested his hand in Peter’s sweaty hair, not forcing him, just holding him there.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me, sweetheart. I’m gonna come.”

Beck could clearly feel the vibrations of Peter’s moan through his dick, and he came in long hot spurts inside his mouth. (But he swore to himself that one day he was going to come all over that lovely freckled face.)

Peter swallowed as much of it as he could, choking a bit in the process. Beck pulled him up and slapped him on his back to help him through the coughing.

“You okay?”

Peter nodded, staring up at him sheepishly. “Was that good?”

Beck replied by kissing him, tasting himself on the boy’s tongue. “That was fucking fantastic.”

Peter tried to hide his proud little smile behind his hand as he wiped his mouth with the back of it.

He then wrapped himself around Beck as the older man held him close.

“It was all for you,” Peter murmured. “You know it was all for you.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that escalated quickly…  
> Also it's a personal headcanon of mine that Beck curses a LOT.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter woke up from what seemed to be the deepest and most pleasant dream he’s had in a while. He felt rested and relaxed in way he hadn’t felt ever since well…

“Dude! We’re leaving in like ten minutes, get up!”

Peter turned to see his best friend already dressed and ready to head out. For a second, Peter felt relieved to have managed to stumble into his own bed last night. As he went over the details from the previous night he had to applaud himself for waking up in _his own_ hotel room.

He smushed his face deeper into the pillow, not wanting to get out of the pleasant comfort of his bed.

“Bro, if we’re not downstairs on time Harrington is going to nag all the way there.”

Besides muffling a groan into his pillow, Peter got up and headed towards the shower. “Ned? When did I get back last night?”

“I don’t know, pretty late, you swung through the window and headed straight for the shower.”

“Oh, right,” Peter recalled the faint memory, again patting himself mentally on the back for at least having the common decency to shower and wash his suit, cleaning cum off the next day would’ve been a bitch.

“I assumed you got stuck giving it good to some baddies.”

 _Nice phrasing, Peter thought._ “Yeah…You can say that.”

He grabbed his clean clothes out of his bag and headed for the bathroom when Ned stopped packing to throw him a strange look.

“What?”

“Did you have an allergic reaction or something?”

“Huh?” His friend was making gestures towards his chin area and Peter almost choked on his own saliva remembering the beard burn that most likely decorated half of his face.

“Oh, OH - yeah, seafood. I think it was the seafood – that I had - last night.”

Peter scrambled out of the room as fast as he could and closed the door to the bathroom. That was close.

He looked at himself in the mirror and moaned. The area around his mouth seemed red and swollen, and his lips had doubled in size.

“Damn it!” He practically drenched himself in cold water, trying to minimize the swelling _(this is as good as it’s going to get, Parker),_ showered, got dressed and headed out.

\---

“What is _that?”_ MJ pointed without even caring who heard at his face. Peter shoved her hand away as gently as he could, annoyed because he knew she of all people had to have noticed.

“It’s an allergic reaction,” he grumbled. She didn’t look convinced.

“Shellfish,” Ned tried to ad helpfully. “Or seafood, which was it again?”

“No, not that,” MJ interrupted, now poking directly into Peter’s neck. “What is _that_? Looks like something _bit_ you.”

_FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK._

Flashbacks from the previous night formed in his mind and Peter slapped his hand onto the mark to remove it from their sight. Fuck Mysterio or Beck or whatever the fuck his name was. How could he have missed it when he looked in the mirror that morning.

“That’s nothing, just a – ehm – mosquito bite.”

“You sure?” MJ insisted and he wished that she wouldn’t. “Looks too big for a mosquito.”

“Yeah, dude, and it’s turning kinda purple.” Peter contemplated looking for new friends.

“No, yeah, I remember now, it was a HUGE mosquito, giant, tropical even - hey, let’s just knock it off, okay?”

Ned simply shrugged and walked off, but MJ squinted her eyes in a way that could only mean trouble. Still, Peter couldn’t help the tingling in his stomach every time she’d glance in his direction.

As much as he was attracted to Beck, _and he really without a doubt was_ , there was still a part of him _(the normal teenage part)_ that still liked MJ.

With his hand still awkwardly placed on the mark on his neck Peter decided to try his luck.

“MJ? Would you like to go somewhere with -”

But Mr. Harrington swooped in between them all of a sudden and forced them forwards with a steady hand on their backs. “Let’s move it along, we’ve wasted enough time as it is already.”

\---

“What are you doing?”

Peter almost jumped out of his skin when Beck appeared seemingly out of nowhere, in an old church building of all places. Luckily, none of his other classmates were paying any attention, most of them trying to just stay awake during one of Mr. Harrington’s insanely long lectures on the place.

His teacher was signaling everyone to follow him into the next room and Peter took that opportunity to stay a bit behind, which was something he’d gotten very used to by now.

“Why are you on your school trip when we could really use your help,” Beck asked rather uncaringly and Peter shushed him before dragging him behind the nearest side door.

“Are you insane? What if anyone saw you?” Peter asked, trying to get accustomed to the dark janitor’s closet they had ended up in.

“I know how to not be seen, Peter. It kind of comes with the whole superhero package.”

Peter rolled his eyes at that, wondering how long it would take for someone to notice he’s been missing. Or if anyone would actually care. Specifically, MJ.

“Is that the only reason you came here, to scold me for not helping you?”

“Do you want me to scold you?” Beck replied smoothly and Peter could tell, even in the dark that the man was smirking.

“No!” He let out frustrated when he remembered about this morning. “We have to be more careful, my friends might know something weird is going on.”

“With you or with us?”

“With…everything…”

“How would they get that impression?” Beck asked, once again leaning a little too close to Peter, who had no room to move.

“You – you marked me,” he whispered because everything they said sounded loud and came off so intimate in the quiet space.

“Oh, yeah, right, I remember,” Beck said in a way that made shivers run up Peter’s spine. “Right, _here.”_ Beck put a fingertip to the place on Peter’s throat, rubbing lovingly along the spot.

Peter felt his knees go weak, and his dick twitched in his pants. Was it something about Beck that made him this horny, or was it just him being a hormonally induced teenager? His daydreams about MJ were sweet and slow, filled with shy smiles and curious hands.

With Beck it was all desperate and harsh, he wanted the man to throw him against something and have his way with him. He wanted to be used. Peter shook the thoughts away. Beck didn’t see him like that. Beck wasn’t like that.

“What are you thinking about?” the man in question asked interested.

“N-Nothing,” Peter said, his lips parting on a soft exhale as Beck leaned in to kiss him behind his ear.

“We can’t – _not here,”_ Peter didn’t want to lose his virginity in a dirty janitor’s closet, inside an old _church of all fucking places._

Beck waved his worries away while he nipped at his skin. “Shhh, just turn around and put your hands against the wall.”

“But -”

“Don’t you trust me, Peter?”

“I do, it’s just that my friends are -”

“If they were looking for you they would’ve found you by now.”

The words stung in a way Peter hadn’t expected them to.

“Okay…” Peter did as he was told, turning around and placing the palms of his hands flat against the stone wall.

“What now?”

“Now? Now, I’m going to make you feel good,” Beck replied smoothly which made all of Peter’s blood rush south. The older man reached to unzip Peter’s jeans, with his lips strategically placed on the back of the boy’s neck so he _wouldn’t_ resist. _He couldn’t resist._

“It’s just you and me, _sweetheart_ , try and enjoy this.”

Peter made a confused little sound when Beck tugged his jeans and underwear down until they pooled around his ankles.

“God, just look at you,” Beck all but wolf whistled and Peter felt himself get flushed from the attention. Both of them had gotten used to the dark now so it was possible to make out shaped and silhouettes.

Peter occasionally caught himself glancing over at the light that peeked underneath the closed door, expecting someone to walk in on them at any moment.

But then Beck pressed his elbow not too gently in between his shoulder blades and Peter’s body was forced to bend forward, sticking his ass out.

It was embarrassing to say the least, and at the same time this was the horniest he’d even been. Peter’s dick was already leaking against his belly, waiting in anticipation for Beck’s every move.

Beck once again didn’t bother to remove any of his own clothes, he just kneeled down behind Peter and put both of his hands on his ass cheeks. Peter bit his lip and shut his eyes closed when Beck spread him open, all too slowly to reveal his pink little hole.

 _“Fuck, that’s a sight to behold,”_ the man whispered and Peter’s stomach was in knots. He felt like he could actually come from this, untouched.

Beck blew cool air against his hole just to tease him further and Peter took the bait and whined in desperation. _“Please, please, please, Mr. Beck, please…”_

Eventually Beck seemed to take pity on Peter as he went in licked a broad stripe over his twitching hole. Peter almost gave himself a concussion, slamming his head into the wall as he gave himself over to the intense pleasures Beck was providing for him.

Beck ate him out like he was living for it, as if it was all he wanted to do with his time for all eternity. He licked and nipped and kissed over and around his hole, making Peter’s cock bob and his lips bleed from biting them raw.

Peter’s hand slid down the wall toward his painfully swollen dick but Beck slapped him on the ass as a warning. “ _Don’t_ – Don’t touch yourself.”

The moan Peter let out was downright humiliating, but nonetheless he complied. As a reward Beck actually stuck his tongue inside him and Peter just about lost every brain cell he had left as he started to sob uncontrollably into the wall. The man was working him open with his tongue, digging his fingers so hard int Peter's ass cheeks he thought they'd bruise. He'd let him. He'd let him do anything as long as he didn't stop.

Beck gave him a last longing kiss and a filthy lick before getting up. Peter heard the distinct sound of Beck sucking on his own fingers _(Peter’s been there, done that)_ so he was aware of what the man was about to do.

The first prod of a finger made his toes curl, and sweat trickled down his spine as he tried his best to hold himself back from coming too soon. “You’ve done this to yourself before?” Beck asked, knowingly.

“Uhu,” Peter confirmed, his cheeks burning and he was convinced he was about to faint. Beck’s fingers were a lot thicker than his own but he felt his body opening up to the intrusion. “Ah, there we go,” Beck groaned right into his ear, starting to pull out and push back in.

“Fuck, I kept thinking about you all night,” the older man confessed. “Thought about that gorgeous mouth of yours around my cock, how beautiful you looked choking on me, swallowing me whole.”

“Oh – oh, God,” Peter cried out, Beck’s filthy words combined with him curling his finger as he hit something deep inside him, made him lose all control. Peter came harder than he ever had before, his cum shooting up his stomach and the wall.

He breathed through it, his stomach tying in knots at the thought of having possibly disappointed Beck. “I’m sorry,” he said groggily. “I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” Beck said laughing it away. “I really didn’t expect anything different. Just look at you, making such a lovely filthy mess of yourself.”

Peter heard a zipper unzip behind him and he heard the telltale signs of Beck palming his own cock.

“Now, what do good boys say?”

Peter replied without missing a beat, “Thank you Mr. Beck.”

It didn’t take long for Beck to come as well, he muffled his groan into Peter’s hair, drinking in the scent of sweat and sex. He came all over Peter’s back, pushed his shirt up to do so.

“No, thank _you_.” Was all he said afterwards.

He went out first and Peter waited a reasonable amount of time to pull up his pants and follow.

\---

“Where were you, bro?” Ned asked him as Peter caught up with their group once again. He could feel Beck’s cum start to run down his backside and he made a face at the uncomfortable feeling. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, can you just cover for me one more time while I search for the bathroom.”

“Okaaaay…”

Peter swiftly turned on his heels to run for the bathroom when he ran straight into MJ. “Hey,” she said giving him that apprehensive look he’d sadly come to associate with all of their interactions.

“Oh – hey,” he stammered. Fuck. His hands were sweating and his jeans were beyond gross, and he prayed to anyone listening that he didn’t have any suspicious stains on his clothes that she would notice.

“You wanted to ask me something?” She started and it took Peter so much effort to hold his attention to the conversation when he was frantically in need of a shower or at least a clean towel.

“Huh? What?”

“This morning…You were going to ask me something?” She elaborated.

“Eh – Yes, well, I – really have to go right now actually-”

“Are you serious?” She asked and it physically hurt Peter to have to do this to her. But there was no way he was having this conversation with the girl he’s been obsessing over for the longest time, with a guy’s cum drying on his back. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but _I have to_ -”

MJ nodded and he could see the confusion and resentment in her eyes.

"We'll talk later! Promise!" he yelled after her but she didn't react. He couldn't think about that right now.

Peter ran into the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind him, and only after cleaning himself as thoroughly as possible _(hard place to reach)_ did he finally allow himself to break down. He braced himself with his hands on the sink, felt the tears burn heavy against his eyelids.

 _"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”_ he mumbled softly to himself, tears running down his cheeks.

He didn’t deserve them. None of them. And they didn't deserve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'M sorry to end on such a sad note but I love me some angst and i hope you all do too, especially  
> for this pairing that is so rich with it.  
> Let me know what you thought, your opinions are always appreciated ;)


	4. Chapter 4

There was no sound for the small drops of water cascading down the walls of the tunnels and the frantic desperation of mouths meeting and hands groping. They were both hidden in the darkness, away from prying eyes, engulfed in the dirty forbidden act of it all.

No world to safe. No identity to hide.

Beck had the boy pinned against one of the many pillars, grinding his hips into him so hard he was worried he’d break him. But Peter didn’t seem to care one bit, one of his lean legs securely around Beck’s waist.

They’d been making out for what felt like hours now, the boy’s lips swollen and hair a hot mess. Beck had to give himself props for holding out this long. He squeezed the boy’s ass not too gently and Peter yelped against his lips, his big doe eyes widening in surprise.

“Fuck, it’s this suit. It’s _this fucking suit_.”

Peter laughed at him, resting his head back against the pillar and arching his body in the most alluring way, further proving Beck’s point.

“What about it?” he asked cheekily.

“It’s as if it’s painted onto you,” Beck said, mouthing down the boy’s neck, nipping and biting. He thoroughly enjoyed it when Peter got mad at him for marking him. He didn’t give one single fuck who’d see, he’d make them all know Peter was his and his alone.

“Hmm, I like yours too,” Peter drawled, all the blood loss from brain must’ve had something to do with it.

Peter ran his hands up and down Beck’s arms, obviously enjoying the sight as he bit his already bruised bottom lip.

The sight of it was too damn good to resist and Beck slammed their mouths back onto each other, earning a bratty whine from the teenager.

“Fuck, you think this is what Stark had in mind when he made it for you?” he said absentmindedly in between sticking his tongue down Peter’s throat. “You think he’d get off on watching you in it?”

Peter broke the kiss, shaking his head, a sharp look in his eyes Beck hadn’t seen before.

 _“No,”_ the boy said, visibly upset by the comment. “No, don’t say that.”

“Why? Don’t tell me it didn’t cross your mind,” Beck insisted, interested to get this reaction from him and too intrigued to stop. “Come on, Peter, why else would he _care_?”

That was what did it. The boy tried to move back but forgot that there was no room for him to go anywhere. His eyes got glassy and Beck could swear he could see him tear up.

_That was the icing on the cake. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did now._

Peter flinched when Beck ran his knuckles down his face. “Don’t – You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Beck whispered into the boy’s hair, mostly to hide his smile because the damage was already done. _God, he was good._

It’s as if he could smell his despair, and what a lovely scent. He’d never been this turned on before.

“Trust me, kiddo. I’ve made these mistakes before, everyone wants something from you. Whether they want to fuck you or use you in some other way, you have to be careful.”

“What do _you_ want?” Peter asked defensively, and it’s that spark, that fire inside him that had really drawn Beck in in the first place.

_“I just want you.”_

Peter looked away, perhaps too afraid to show how he truly felt anymore. Beck knew he’d crossed a line but he had to. He had to test him. See how many limbs this spider could lose before…

“You believe me, don’t you?” Beck asked stickily sweet, his fingers underneath Peter’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“I – I don’t know,” Peter said softly.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Beck insisted, his lips against the boy’s flushed cheek. Peter’s mouth fell open, somewhere between a protest and permission.

Beck’s hand reached between the young man’s legs, not at all surprised to find him still impossibly hard. “You _need_ me, Peter. _I know you do…”_

 _“Beck -”_ Peter begged, leaning into the man’s touch. Beck rubbed his thumb along the outline of Peter’s cock straining obscenely against the tight fabric.

“Say it.”

He pressed into the head, starting to feel the fabric dampen underneath his hand. _“Say it,”_ he repeated, his voice edging on a growl.

Peter moaned, the sound like music to Beck’s ears. The boy grabbed hold of Beck’s shoulder, sunk his nails into the man’s suit as he teetered on the edge.

“I’m still mad at you,” Peter stammered, poor boy trying to sound convincing. Beck had to hold back a chuckle.

“But you’re still hard for me,” the man said.

“Yeah, well, don’t flatter yourself, I’m sixteen,” Peter replied, his throat bobbing as he swallowed harshly.

Beck was resilient though as he moved his hand down to massage Peter’s balls, rolling them in his palm, his fingertips stroking the sensitive spot behind them.

“Oh, fuck,” Peter cried out through his teeth, his voice too high and his face reddening in embarrassment and arousal. “Oh – God – Yesss, I _need_ you, Mr. Beck. _I need you so badly, please_ …”

“There’s my clever boy,” Beck said lovingly, as he removed his hand and made work of taking both of their dicks out. He wrapped his fingers around both of them together and Peter watched, mesmerized by the whole thing.

It only took him two more strokes for Peter to come, and Beck kissed him swallowing down his cries. He was grateful actually, the glide was so much easier now thanks to Peter’s cum and he quickly sped up his movements to get to his own climax.

Beck grabbed Peter’s face with his other hand. “Say it again. Come on, baby.”

“I _need you_ , Mr. Beck,” Peter complied, all blissed out and sated. “I need you to _fuck me_ , can’t wait to feel you _inside me_.”

 _“Shit -”_ Beck groaned, fucking his fist as he came hard all over their cocks, adding to the mess Peter made. He breathed through it, enjoying the aftermath of pleasure, loving the way Peter made these little noises of overstimulation.

Beck raised his dirty fingers to Peter’s mouth and let him suck them clean. He didn’t even have to tell him, the boy just wrapped his mouth over the digits and sucked like his life depended on it. Beck’s dick twitched in response but he was a patient man, there’d be plenty of time for more.

They both tucked themselves back into their pants. Beck grabbed Peter by the arm before he could make an attempt to leave.

“Shall I meet you at your hotel tonight?” he asked, no further explanation needed.

“I don’t know man – eh – I might have plans,” Peter said.

“Plans?”

“Yeah, with my friends.”

“Oh, I see.” Beck thought he’d quenched that thirst, but apparently Peter was still keen on that _girl_.

Beck gave him a final raunchy kiss just as a reminder. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

\---

“This is nice,” MJ said as they passed over the bridge together. Peter agreed, unable to hide the big dopey grin on his face.

He was so relieved when she hadn’t been mad at him for ditching her the other day.

“I still feel like the biggest jerk,” Peter admitted quietly, looking down at his feet.

“Don’t,” she said. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

“You do?” Peter said absentmindedly, it was hard to concentrate when every part of him was screaming to tell her how he felt.

“Yeah, I mean – I do pay attention, Peter, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“No, of course not. You are very, _very_ smart – and – and pretty,” he blurted out sheepishly, feeling the tips of his ears go red.

MJ gave him a genuine smile. “So, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well…” This was it, this was the moment. He had his hand fishing for the necklace in his pocket, his skin buzzing and his mind racing. “I was going to say that I -”

“You’re Spider-Man,” she finished for him. Only…

“Eh – NO, I mean – what? What are you talking ab -”

“It’s okay, Peter. I’ve figured it out.”

“But, that’s not what I – I’m really _not_ …”

Peter took his hand out of his pocket, left the necklace there. This was not how he’d imagined this going. This was not at all going according to plan.

“Peter, it’s kinda obvious, don’t you think? I mean I’ve seen you run off countless of times, Betty thought you were a male escort, her and Ned saw you talking to some older dude a couple of times, but I told her that you were -”

_Great, Peter thought. Not only was he careless with his secret identity, he was also mistaken for a prostitute. Fucking fantastic._

“Wait, is that why you were watching me all the time? I mean, was that the _only_ reason you were watching me?” And suddenly it dawned on him.

“Well – yeah,” she said hesitantly, but she said it nonetheless. Peter wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He wanted the bridge to collapse and for him to drown.

“Peter?”

“No, I get it now. I’m just gonna go.”

He didn’t even have the strength to argue with her anymore, he just ran in the opposite direction, even as she called after him in a sort of twisted parallel of their previous meeting.

\---

Peter should’ve expected him to be there.

Beck was lounging in the hotel lobby, a drink in hand and in full costume. He had a flock of girls surrounding him, taking pictures with him. He sure seemed to be having the time of his life.

Peter tried to sneak passed them, thinking Beck won’t even notice he was there but he stopped in his tracks when he heard his name.

He turned back and walked over to them, no need to hide anymore. “Lovely meeting you ladies, but I’d like to speak with my friend alone now, if you don’t mind.”

The girls giggled and left, and Peter felt a sting of jealousy as he watched them shoot Beck glances over their shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” Peter jumped up on the stool next to him.

“I was waiting for you, had a feeling you might want someone to talk to,” Beck said, not disclosing the fact that he’d used his new glasses to spy on Peter earlier. He’d watched the whole thing go down, and he couldn’t believe his fucking luck. "You okay?"

“I’m fine,” Peter said exhausted.

“Did you meet up with your girl?”

“She’s _not_ _my_ girl…It didn’t go so well,” Peter replied. He was disappointed but not really surprised; it’s not like Beck hadn’t warned him about this. He ought to have known.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Beck squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. “If there’s anything I can do for you.”

Peter thought about it for a second. He felt his skin heat up at Beck’s touch, felt the eyes of the man next to him penetrate him. Beck had ripped his attention from those girls the very minute he noticed Peter.

He always noticed Peter. _He’d waited here for him._

“Let’s go upstairs,” Peter said with determination in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, sorry this update was so slow, schoolwork is busting my ass. And I spent most of my time watching Jake Gyllenhaal movies, so sorry not sorry...  
> Also I have a clear story in mind now, and I think it's going to have a few more chapters.  
> It is getting pretty dark (psychologically), I hope you guys like that side of Peter/Beck, and let me know what you think!  
> I love to read every one of your comments <3


	5. Chapter 5

“So...how do you want me?” Peter asked in his best attempt at a seductive tone, but Beck wasn’t going to make it easy for him this time.

Even if he was desperate to finally have the boy. The older man sat down on the edge of the bed while Peter locked the door.

“I don’t know, Peter. I’m not sure you’re really into this and I don’t want to take advantage of you,” Beck said, hoping the sigh added at the end wasn’t too much.

“What are you talking about? Of course I’m into this.”

Peter joined him on the bed, sitting close enough to get the idea across. “I don’t know, you might be still upset over the girl and perhaps this is not the right time for all this…”

“Beck, please,” Peter said, placing a soft kiss on Beck’s lips. “You know I _need_ this. _I need you.”_

Beck returned the small kissed until he felt it was time to ‘question’ himself again, he gently pushed Peter back, shaking his head. “Peter…”

“Is it _me_?” the young man said, now obviously getting distraught over the whole thing. “Do you not _want me_ anymore?”

“I do, you know I do,” Beck replied, his hand still on Peter’s chest and Peter grabbed it urgently.

“Then what do I have to do to prove myself?” Peter asked, his voice dripping in desperation. “I’d do anything, Mr. Beck. Please, tell me what to do.”

_Hmmm, this was more like it; Beck thought, feeling rather smug. I bet you never got to hear him beg so nicely for it, Stark._

“Maybe you should show me what _you’d_ like to do.”

Peter bit his lip, his eyes casting downward towards the bulge in between Beck’s legs. He’d been hard the moment he stepped into the room, already anticipating the things he’d do to the boy.

“Can I – _you know_?”

Peter flushed adorably and Beck chuckled. “You can use your words, darling.” It was highly entertaining to see Peter like this, he’d been assertive about what he wanted before, but he’d been high on endorphins then.

“Can I suck you, please?”

“By all means, go right ahead.”

\---

Beck felt on top of the world, not only had he acquired Spider-Man’s trust and devotion, he was also getting his dick sucked by said superhero and would most likely have his virginity by the end of the night. He mentally padded himself on the back, wishing that Tony Stark was still fucking alive just to witness all of this.

“That’s it, baby. Keep going,” Beck encouraged the young man kneeling in between his legs. Peter looked up at him with the sweetest puppy eyes, his mouth stuffed with cock and Beck groaned at the sight.

Peter was so eager to please him. He was yearning for any type of affection at this point and perhaps Beck was willing to give it to him (even more so than he’d expected at first).

He wasn’t one to usually stick around. Beck carelessly used people, tossed them away like used matches after he’d gotten what he wanted out of them.

But this time…It felt different.

Peter didn’t have the best technique, but there was something honest about him, he was enjoying it just for the sake of _giving_. The boy would rub Beck’s thighs, _like a lover would_ , Beck realized.

Beck’s hips stuttered, feeling Peter take him down his throat and who the hell was actually in charge here, he wondered…

When he came, he did so brushing Peter’s fringe back, his cum landing across the bridge of the young man’s freckled nose. Some of it Peter managed to catch on his tongue, smiling and licking his lips.

_Fuck._

“Did you like that?” Peter asked him afterwards. Beck had thrown him a towel he’d gotten from the bathroom to clean his face.

“ _I loved it, sweetheart._ Now undress and get on all fours, time for _you_ to feel good.”

Peter did as he was told, but paused when he jumped naked on the bed. “Could you – eh – do the thing you did at the church?”

“You mean pray?”

Beck barked out a laugh at Peter’s unimpressed face. He leaned forward on the bed for a kiss and was relieved that Peter still indulged him.

“Mmm, you want me to eat you out, baby?”

“Yes, please,” Peter said, and Beck only thought it’d be fair.

\---

Peter had already come on his tongue, when Beck introduced two lubed up fingers. Just the filthy little sounds coming out of the teen’s mouth were enough to get him hard again, but the added bonus of feeling his fingers slip into something so tight, made his cock painfully throb.

He couldn’t wait to sink into him. Couldn’t wait to make him his.

“You ready, darling? Ready to take me in?”

“Yes! Mr. Beck! Please!” Peter cried out, fucking himself earnestly onto Beck’s fingers.

Beck still tortured him for some more, part of it to make sure he was really prepared, another part just for the sake of watching him squirm.

When he finally did line himself up and pushed inside, it was as if all air was pushed out of his lungs with it. Beck froze, panting into Peter’s back, listening to any sounds that might indicate discomfort.

“You okay?” he asked, mentally rolling his eyes at himself _because why the fuck should he even care._

Peter nodded and swallowed audibly. “ – just – _so much_ \- ”

And Beck couldn’t help but agree. “I know, but you’re doing so well.”

He gave him some more time to adjust before pulling out and gently pushing back in, both of them gasping in unison.

Beck quickly discovered this was completely foreign for him. It had never felt like this before. This kind of maddening pleasure was overwhelming, smothering him. _What the fuck was wrong._

 _“Beck,”_ Peter sighed so softly he might not have heard him if he wasn’t so closed already and Beck had to force himself not to come right then and there.

He kissed Peter’s shoulders, down his spine, wanted to make sure he knew how much he wanted him; _how much he l-_

Beck pulled out abruptly, leaving the boy a blubbering empty mess. Peter shifted on his back, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Beck replied, but his mouth went dry and he had stinging pains in his chest. _Was he fucking ill?_

Peter grabbed for him, ran his hands up his arms and down his chest.

Beck gave in eventually, thrusted back inside Peter and kissed him. The boy wrapped his legs around him and there was nowhere for Beck to go. And he felt glad.

\---

Afterwards Beck lay there, waiting for Peter to get out of the shower. _He should just leave._ The damn glasses were _right there_ on the bedside table, he could just take them and go.

But he was tired, barely able to keep his eyes open, he just wanted to melt into the covers, drift away, and sink into a deep slumber.

When Peter did emerge from the shower, Beck had already drifted off. 

\---

There was a knock at the door and Peter rushed to answer as to not disturb Beck. Peter couldn’t fall asleep, his skin still buzzing after what they’d done. He got up and quietly put on some pants and a shirt before going to answer.

He wasn’t expecting MJ and he made his best attempt at closing the door silently behind him without her sneaking a peek inside.

“Hi,” she said cautiously.

“Hi,” he repeated softly. Any bad feelings he might’ve had about their situation had dissolved and made room for pure bliss.

“I’m sorry to come by this late, I understand if you’re still mad at me,” she started unsure, glancing at her feet a couple of times.

“I’m not mad at you,” Peter quickly replied. How could he? He should be grateful for everything that has led him to this precious moment with Beck. He just wasn’t sure if it was necessary for MJ to know the reason he wasn’t able to hide his grin. Should he tell her he’d realized he was head over heels in love with someone else?

“That’s a relief,” she said. “I was hoping we could maybe have a talk, downstairs?”

Peter nodded, thinking it was a good idea in case they were too loud. He didn’t want to wake Beck.

He followed her downstairs to the lobby (which was luckily for them, mostly devoid of other people), and they sat opposite each other on a couch.

“I was going to apologize for how things went down this afternoon.”

“That’s really nice of you, but there’s really no need,” Peter said.

“At least let me apologize for getting involved in your business, whatever I said about you being – _you know_ – consider it forgotten, I’ll never mention it again if you don’t want me to.”

Peter was touched, but perhaps this was exactly the right time for him to come clean. _About something at least._

“It’s fine, MJ. I want you to know, you’re a good friend.”

Her eyes rested on his face as they sat in silence for a moment and Peter knew his words meant a great deal to her. “Ned also knows by the way.”

 _“Seriously?_ How did _he_ manage to keep that a secret?” MJ returned to her great sarcastic self.

“I have no idea,” Peter laughed, genuinely glad to have someone else in his corner.

“Don’t worry, _I’ll_ cover for you if something comes up at school,” she added, punching him reassuringly on the shoulder.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

They were about to head back upstairs when MJ called him back all of a sudden. “Oh! I almost forgot about this, thought you might like it back.”

She handed him a small electronic device that Peter had never seen before. “That’s not mine.”

“Really? It fell on the ground during your fight the other day, I saw the webs on it and just assumed it must’ve been yours. What do you think it is then?”

“Look like…some kind of drone…” Peter examined the thing, pulling some of the webbing on it back to reveal a shattered lens. He tried a few buttons on the side and suddenly the thing started projecting on the wall of the hotel.

Peter freaked and almost dropped the thing when visions of the elemental he’d fought before appeared, blurry but distinct enough to still make out.

“Wait, isn’t that what happened? What does this mean?” MJ said confused.

A flurry of green and red caught Peter’s attention and his heart sank into his stomach as all the pieces fell together. “It means… _it wasn’t real.”_

_Everything clicked into place. How could he have been so stupid. How could he have believed…_

_“All of it,”_ he whispered more so to himself than to her.

“Peter, are you alright?”

“No…I don’t think I am,” he said and felt the bile rise up in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kinda took a completely different route than I had invisioned at the beginning but I actually like this a lot more.  
> This should make the next few chapters VERY interesting ;)
> 
> (edit: also just realized there are only a couple more chapters left omfg this also the first time in years i'll finish a multichapter story so i feel proud)


	6. Chapter 6

The irony wasn’t lost on him that this was in fact Peter’s second bathroom breakdown since he’s been on this trip.

He stood there shaking, clinging to the sink and willing himself not to throw up. He’d let his guard down and this was what happened.

 _Fuck his supposed ‘Peter tingle’._ He never saw this coming, at least…He didn’t think he did. Maybe there’d been enough hints in the past but Peter just didn’t want to see them.

No matter what he felt, Beck had been a bad guy all along, and Peter went and slept with him. _Fell for him._

_Fuck._

His aunt was going to kill him.

After she’d try and kill Beck first.

“You tell me who this Mr. Mysterio is right now, because I’m going to murder him.” He could already imagine what she’d say as if she was right there in the bathroom with him, rubbing his back reassuringly. “And then I’ll have Happy cover for me of course.”

He thought about what Ned would say; “Wow, you actually lost your virginity to Mysterio? That’s kinda awesome, and also gross because he’s old and evil, you know, but wow…”

Or MJ; “This is what happens when you don’t tell me stuff. Need me to hire an assassin?”

Nick Fury would probably just fire him on the spot to be honest. “You did _fucking what_?” So Peter might as well get it over with. Face the music. Have hi heart out rather sooner than later. He decided to jump into the river on his own terms, at least that way he’d save himself any further embarrassment and he could be a normal teenager again after all this mess was over.

Or so he thought.

\---

Walking up the stairs to his room was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. He’s had a shitty couple of months now and this just takes the cake.

It might’ve even been harder than getting blipped out of existence, because at least he doesn’t remember that.

It might’ve been harder than losing Tony, because at least he’d been powerless to stop that. Or so he told himself.

This time he’d have to cut all ties with Beck of his own volition. Peter hated himself for even thinking it, because in the end, he thought this might be all Tony Starks fault. He’d never let himself be used like this if he hadn’t been so desperate to replace the void left behind in his life.

The palm of his hand was sweaty when he turned the doorknob, walked into the pristine hotel room, his feet barely dragging inside, as if he was being forced to walk to his hanging.

Part of him was relieved to still find Beck in his bed.

Part of him felt dreadful for it.

“Hi there, kiddo,” Beck drawled, and he was unashamed, stretched his arms above his head, obviously still naked and Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek to compose himself.

“I thought you might’ve left by now,” Peter inquired, trying to keep his head straight but his gut twisting so much he thought he might throw up.

“Now why would I do that?”

Peter shrugged, and then his eyes locked on the glasses on the side table. He’s left them there like a fucking moron, and Beck could’ve taken them. _Will take them_. After he’s finished with him. So why isn’t he finished with him yet?

“I was thinking I might want to go for another round, what do you say?” Beck asked.

“I – I can’t,” Peter replied, the words about to slip out but he didn’t think he was ready to deal with all of it. “I’m still sore…”

“Well, why don’t you fuck _me_ then?” Beck said like it’s just that simple.

“You want me to do that?” Peter asked, and he wasn’t sure if he was buying time, but something about the idea seemed so alluring he couldn’t help but picture it, and his dick twitched in response.

“Yeah, wouldn’t you like to be inside me?” Beck’s voice was deep and full of promise, and he looked so fucking good, all relaxed and hair messy, Peter’s never felt more attracted to him. It hurt in ways he couldn’t even begin to understand. To still want him after all he’s found out tonight.

There must be something inherently wrong with him.

He must be just as messed up as Beck is.

Two mental peas in a pod.

_“I – know…”_

Beck didn’t bat an eye and Peter took a deep breath, tried to stay calm, he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Not after tonight. Not after what they’d done.

“What do you know, _baby_?” It’s sounded so condescending and Peter’s devastated that he never noticed it before.

It also marked the end of their conversation and they were both aware.

_“Come here, darling.”_

Peter did as he’s told. He realized he _had_ to, otherwise people might get hurt again. He didn’t want to hurt anyone again.

_He didn’t want to hurt._

\---

He worked Beck open like the man himself had taught him, slow and methodical, made sure he’d be nice and ready to take his cock.

And when he finally pushed inside something seemed to snap deep in his gut. He’d never felt anything so warm and tight, he’d never felt so good in his life. Beck was surrounding him. His scent. The feel of his strong body underneath him.

“You like that, baby?” Beck asked out of breath, sweat on his brow and Peter nodded overzealously.

“Yeah…Hmm – does it feel good for you?”

Peter added a little hip thrust to the question, making Beck groan in response, which in itself said enough. “Yes, you’re doing so good, Peter. My beautiful, brilliant boy.”

Their lips brushed, their heated bodies pressed against each other, rocking with the forces of Peter’s hips pounding away. He was gentle in the beginning but soon Beck would beg him to go faster, do it harder.

It made his head spin and muscles contract, his abs working away with every smooth glide. Beck came first this time, his back arched of the bed and Peter watched him, fascinated and stunned as the older man came all over the hair on his chest, and Peter had the urge to lick it off.

Then he heard it. Just after the throes of Beck’s ecstasy, as he shivered and pressed lazy kisses to Peter’s throat. _“…I love you…”_

Peter wasn’t sure if he was coming or crying, either way it was wrung out of him and he collapsed next to Beck not long after, trying to subtly wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

_“I love you too.”_

It was over.

\---

Peter rolled onto his side when Beck reentered the room, fresh from the shower, his wet hair slicked back and the evidence of what they’d done washed off of him.

A towel hung low on his toned hips and Peter wished he wouldn’t torture him in this way. But he also wished for a lot of things that were never going to happen.

Beck dressed in silence, by the time he’d had his suit back on it already felt foreign to see him like that. The older man reached for the night stand and carelessly grabbed EDITH.

“You said you loved me,” Peter managed to whisper, his voice cracking. He had to know. Had to ask now that it was still safe, now that he could write it all off in the morning and pretend none of it had taken place.

“I do,” Beck said, and to his credit it did seem like it took him a great deal of pain to say. Still, it didn’t do much for he bagged the glasses into his suit.

“Then _why_ are you doing this?”

“What I’m doing does not negate how I feel about you.”

Peter sat up, angry now, the covers bunching up around his waist, and it dawned on him that he was in such a vulnerable position now. “Yes, it does. _You’re a liar_.”

“Peter…”

“Don’t - just go, you have what you came for.”

Beck’s lips parted as if he was going to say something but he didn’t. Peter wanted to hurl something at him, whether it be a physical object or an insult he wasn’t really sure.

He never got to decide anyway, because Beck looked back at him one last time and gave him what he’d probably think of as a ‘farewell’ kind of smile before jumping out of the window, leaving Peter there alone with his thoughts and his growing grudge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was so fucking hard to write, i'm still not sure if i'm content with the outcome but we'll get to the good stuff soon, and there are only like two more chapters left...this is going to be a rollercoaster ride, get strapped in and enjoy ;)


	7. Chapter 7

He’s already cursed out every single one of his colleagues but nothing seems to quench the nagging feeling inside him. Beck eventually sits down into his chair, rolling its wheels back and forth, restless as ever since he came back.

“EDITH.”

“Yes, Quentin?”

_“…Nevermind.”_

“What’s wrong?” she asks him and he should’ve probably been worried that a machine was the only one he was willing to open up to but he wasn’t.

“It’s just Peter Parker. I think I did a bad thing leaving with you and not explaining further.”

“Explain what, Quentin?”

“What it all means. Why I did it. How I -” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “- felt?”

“How do you feel?”

“Listen hon, I don’t know, okay. This type of thing doesn’t happen to me.” Beck slumped back in his chair, rubbing at his temples.

There was a long silence in which Beck struggled to clear his mind.

“Was it worth it?” EDITH’s soothing voice rose up from the glasses, like the voice of a God whispering in his ear. “Was taking me worth it?”

“It has to be.”

\---

“Beck. He’s here,” Peter said, the tingling down his spine indicating the truth, but it was too late. Everything around him disappeared, the entire building literally melted away in front of his eyes, and so did Nick Fury.

Instead, it was Quentin Beck who stepped out of the shadow of a broken column and Peter immediately got ready to run.

“Wait, just for a second, I want to explain,” the older man said, and held up his hands as a sign of good will. Peter didn’t buy it, he was still on edge, ready to shoot out a web at any moment.

He was however temporarily distracted by Beck’s suit; which wasn’t his ordinary superhero costume. And that was the whole gist of it really, that it had always been just _a costume_ to begin with.

This was his true identity. This was the real Quentin Beck. Mysterio never existed.

“What do you want?” Peter asked between his teeth, angrier than ever.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Peter.”

“Little late for that,” it came out before he could stop himself and Peter realized how pathetic he must’ve sounded.

“I want you to know my plans have changed along the way and all I want is for you to join me.”

“Join you?” Peter repeats, dumbfounded at the suggestion. “Join you where? The psycho ward?”

Beck had the audacity to smirk, like he’d expected such a response. “There’s no reason for us to remain on opposite sides. I’m going to become the greatest superhero this world has ever seen, and you can be by my side when I do so.”

“Iron man is the greatest superhero the world has ever seen, you’re just a fraud, Beck. You'll never be like him.”

This did seem to faze Beck, even if just a little, indicated by the clenching of his jaw.

“So this is your answer? You’re going to remain loyal to some decomposing billionaire who has left you all alone in this shitty world?”

“That wasn’t his fault,” Peter quipped back, taking a few steps back when Beck approached him.

“But was it yours?” Beck asked, throwing Peter off for a second.

_“N-No.”_

“Oh, sweetheart, I think we both know how you really feel.”

Peter was too late to react, it was as if a silent explosion had gone off, everything turning black before his eyes. He was violently thrown into one of Beck’s illusions and there was nothing he could do about it.

“It wasn’t – it wasn’t my fault,” he kept repeating over and over again, dodging ghost after ghost of his past. He saw Tony rise up from the grave, only to jump on him and choke him. And he deserved it.

A fifty-foot statue of Mysterio looked down upon him as the air slowly left his lungs and Peter didn’t have it in him to fight anymore. It was better to let Mr. Stark kill him. To let Beck kill him.

And then the man in question was right there, holding someone Peter recognized immediately. She was screaming his name as Beck held her by the nape of her neck.

“MJ!”

Peter launched the dead body above him to the side, finding the strength to fight for MJ’s sake. He ran for her as Beck’s laughter echoed in his head.

“Say goodbye to your girlfriend.”

Peter shot out a web and swung towards them, but it was just in time for Beck to let go and both of them plunged to their deaths into the deep blackness underneath.

_“NO!”_

Peter screamed his lungs out. He had smashed right through a glass window and had landed face down onto the concrete pavement of a construction site as Beck crept towards him.

His whole body ached and he spit out blood as everything slowly came into focus again. His legs cramped in protest when he managed to somehow get on his feet again, just in time to face Beck.

The man applauded him. “That was a nice effort, kid. And because I’m a generous man, I’ll give you another chance. What do you say? Let’s seal the deal with a kiss?”

Peter whimpered, hunching over and holding his broken ribs, as Beck leaned forward, apparently unnerved by the boy’s injuries. He stopped, their mouths only inches away when he’d felt the sharp point of broken glass at his throat.

Peter looked him right in the eye, fingers tightening over the shard in his hand.

Beck genuinely laughed, a deep throaty laugh that had made Peter’s stomach flutter at one point.

“What are you going to do with that, baby? Kill me?”

Peter didn’t let up, his hand was trembling and his eyes were tearing up but he didn’t let up.

“Then do it.”

Peter pressed the shard deeper into Beck’s neck, but it was too much of an effort to even keep his footing at this point.

“DO IT!” Beck yelled, the shard cutting into his skin and a drop of blood seeping out. Peter shut his eyes, tears running down his face as he slowly let his hand drop.

Beck grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at him.

“And that right there, darling, is _weakness_. That’s why Stark’s dead. And that’s why your friends will face the same fate.”

Peter could barely bring himself to wince when Beck kissed him and then proceeded to shove him backwards right into a train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one will probably be the longest chapter and the final one (sort of) let's end this with a BANG.


	8. Chapter 8

Peter was finally at peace.

He woke up to the gentle sound of birds outside his bedroom window, and a warm somewhat familiar embrace.

“Hi there, kid.”

Peter’s heart jumped and he turned towards the voice with a sigh of relief.

“I thought you’d left.”

“Never,” Beck said. “Bu if you’re tired of me already…”

He made a weak attempt at getting up but Peter grabbed him and pushed him back. “No! Please, don’t go.”

“Alright,” Beck replied, his smile bright and genuine, lighting up his entire face. Peter leaned forward to kiss him, to wrap himself around the other man, let himself sink into him.

“Hmm-” Peter made a noise of discomfort and Beck pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said slowly, feeling a sharp pain run through his body, like a pulled muscle, or a fracture. His eyes flashed to Beck’s lips and there was a bloodstain on them.

Peter touched his own mouth, and all of a sudden he could feel the distinct warmth of something wet and sticky running down his face; blood oozing out of his nose and mouth.

“B-Beck?”

Something cracked from the inside, he felt like his organs had exploded. Peter pressed a hand to his side, to the ribs that now realized were broken.

He looked up at Beck, who had a crazy gleam in his eyes, like he’d taken off a mask and revealed his true face. He grabbed for Peter’s face, almost crushing his skull with the force of it as he planted another kiss on his bleeding mouth.

“Why – did you -” Peter croaked, tears spilling out and mixing with the blood.

“That’s love, baby,” Beck whispered just before Peter’s skull cracked and everything went dark.

\---

He screamed himself awake in some prison cell in Amsterdam.

\---

Peter fell into Happy’s arms three days later, barely able to stand but none of it mattered because he’d finally found his way _home_ , even if the thought of Quentin Beck still loomed over him like a shadow.

\---

“You’ve no idea of what I’ve done, Happy. You’d be so disappointed if you knew.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure we can fix it. Just take a moment to relax and we’ll -” He was interrupted when Peter jumped up out of his chair.

“Don’t tell me to relax, Happy! How can I relax when I messed up so bad? I trusted Beck. Right? I thought he was –“ Peter paused, he didn’t want to burden Happy with the details. “So I gave him the only thing that Mr. Stark left behind for me, and now he’s going to kill my friends and half of Europe. So please, do not tell me to relax!” He ended his rant, upset and shaking, his whole body aching and tired. He fell back in his seat, defeated.

“I’m sorry, Happy. I’m sorry, it’s just…He was right…I am weak…”

“Peter…”

“I wish Mr. Stark was here, I really miss him.”

“I do too, kid. But, if he were here I think he’d want you to not be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, the important thing is to deal with those mistakes.”

“And how do I deal with them?” Peter asked.

“That’s up to you. What do you think you should do?”

Peter wiped his face on his sleeve, stared at the tears and blood Beck’s caused him. He was not going to be his victim, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else take the fall for his mess.

“I think…that I want to try and stop Beck.”

“Good. And how do you plan on doing that, exactly?”

Peter looked up, and for the first time there was something of a fire behind his eyes. “I know _his weakness.”_

\---

They met on top of the tower. Or rather, Peter busted in on Beck, and held the man in question up as he himself hung from the ceiling.

Beck didn’t try and escape his grasp, he just smiled up at Peter, his face eerily resembling his counterpart in Peter’s dream.

“It’s over, Beck. Call everything off. _Now._ ”

“Or else what?” Beck questioned calmly, seemingly unfazed even as he was dangling from Peter’s grip. Peter couldn’t think of anything to say and Beck tilted his head in acknowledgment of that. “You see, you don’t really want to hurt me, do you?”

“You sure about that?” Peter quipped back, ignoring the burning of the tears that sprung in his eyes just at the mere thought of it.

Beck carefully removed his makeshift helmet and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor where it shattered into a dozen pieces, all the while Peter observed his every move.

“It’s just you and me, Peter.” Beck reached for Peter’s mask and the boy flinched, but didn’t pull away. Beck peeled the fabric upwards, revealing the lower half of his face.

“Just you and me,” he repeated before kissing him on the lips. It was such a comforting gesture that Peter couldn’t help but sink into it, just for a second…

Beck held Peter’s face gently in his strong hands as he deepened the kiss. Peter had his eyes closed, but could still make out the harsh light of the fire elemental from outside, and the warmth radiating off of the creature that would soon be closing in on them.

Just as always, everything had managed to sink away into the distance as Beck touched him. There was no world to save, nothing worthy of his attention, except for Quentin Beck.

“I know why you really came here…” Beck whispered against his lips, his fingers cupping the back of Peter’s neck.

“Why?” Peter asked cautiously.

 _“Me._ You’re here for _me_ , you want me to give it to you _nice and hard_. No one’s ever going to love you as good as me, baby.”

 _“Yes,”_ Peter murmured, nodding desperately. He dropped Beck to the floor where he landed gracefully on his feet, and Peter followed next. The boy immediately proceeded to wrap his arms around Beck, hiding his face into the man’s chest to breathe in his scent.

 _“You’re right_. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Beck rubbed his back reassuringly and accepted Peter when the young man stood on his toes to kiss him again. He never did learn to resist Peter in that damn suit.

Peter pressed himself harder against Beck and the man could feel the evidence of the boy’s _affections_ pressed into his thigh. “I’ve missed you too, darling,” he admitted, lifting Peter easily by his slim waist and slamming him not too gently into the glass wall.

Peter let out a strangled moan but was otherwise unnerved as he kept running his hand all over Beck.

“Beck… _please…”_

“Use your words, Peter, you know I love it when you use your words.”

“Fuck me, Beck. I’m yours. _I’m all yours.”_

Beck wanted to rip the suit off of him, wanted to claw his way back inside. He wondered if Peter had any left-over damage from the train hitting him, or if it’d all healed by now. _He hoped it hadn’t_. Just the thought of the internal damage, the physical evidence that Beck had been there, for it to remain in his body, as a reminder, forever.

“Fuck!” Beck groaned, as they both hurried to push their pants down. Peter let himself be manhandled even when Beck turned him around and pressed his face against the cool glass.

Peter jerked in the man’s grip for a second, wondering if anyone would be able to see them from this high. Apparently Beck was thinking the same thing. “Want to let all of London watch you be a good boy for me? Want them to see you get fucked by the greatest hero to ever live?”

Peter argued that no one would be able to see, except for maybe Fury but he quickly tried to push those thoughts away, especially when Beck slid his cock inside him and his head seemed to empty all together.

His lip parted and he saw his breath fog up the glass. It was too tight and uncomfortable; Beck had tried to make it easier on him with spit but it still hurt.

“I’m sorry, darling. I know. But, you’re doing so well for me, I love you so much.” The words left Beck’s mouth and soothed Peter’s ache like an instant painkiller and he let himself get fucked against the glass.

“Love you too – ah – love you so much,” he cried, and urged Beck closer. The man pulled him into his chest as he fucked him, surrounding him with his bigger body, intruding upon all of his senses.

Peter came untouched, tears streaming down his face as his body tried to pull Beck in deeper, wanting to keep him inside for as long as possible. The man in question slumped against him, his hips moving slower but methodical; enjoying every thrust.

Beck grabbed for Peter’s hand, locked their fingers together as he spilled himself inside the boy with one final pained whisper of his name.

\---

“It’s a shame that I’ll still have to kill your friends.”

Peter was leaning against the window and watched Beck saunter away from him. He was wounded, and dirty, and tired. So tired.

 _“What?”_ he asked softly.

“Well, I can’t leave them alive knowing what they know, you see?” Beck explained as unbothered by the whole ordeal as ever, almost excited, actually: “But cheer up, kid. Because after that it will finally be just you and me.”

Beck had the audacity to wink at him before reaching into his suit to take out _the –_

“Looking for these?” Peter held up the glasses Tony Stark had left him. The glasses he’d taken off of Beck while the man had been… _occupied._

They stood like that for a moment, each on their opposite ends. Peter didn’t dare to flinch, move, or even breathe.

This was it.

This was the end.

“Well done, Peter. I think _now_ you’re ready to kill me.”

 _“I don’t want to kill you,”_ Peter replied truthfully as a single tear ran down his face.

The drones still hung ominously in the air, waiting for a command, which Beck gave them before Peter could even try and stop him. “Edith, activate the emergency plan.”

“NO! DON’T!”

_“Emergency plan activated.”_

It all happened so fast, Peter shielded himself from the drones, which had turned to actually face Beck and shoot at _him_ instead. The space filled itself with smoke and the sound of gunfire, and Peter was blown back by the force of the many explosions around him.

His head hurt and he could barely see straight when he forced himself back on his feet. Everything was spinning and his lungs hurt from the mouthfuls of smoke he’d swallowed.

He was sure he had a concussion and there was an eerie familiar warmth running down the side of his face, but there was no time to waste.

Peter somehow managed to get himself over to Beck, who was lying on the floor, hand clutching at one of the wounds cascaded over his body.

There was no threat anymore, so Peter kneeled down beside him.

“I never meant for this to happen,” Peter whispered quietly.

“I know.”

“You made me believe.”

“No, kid. You made me believe.”

Beck went quiet and Peter looked away, sobbing quietly in the ruins of what was left of them.

After giving himself a moment, he stood up and faced the window, remembering his friends who were still in danger and he put on the glasses to regain control over them. First thing he did was have the drones that were sent after his friends be terminated, and to lift all existing illusions, including the remaining elemental.

Afterwards, he let out a sigh of relief, thinking he was strong enough to face Beck’s body now but there was none.

There was only a smeared pool of blood from someone dragging themselves over to another completely smashed window.

Peter stood at the edge, imagined seeing some disturbance in the water.

“Edith? A-Are there still any illusions left?”

_“All illusions have been lifted. Welcome back, Peter.”_

_\---_

**Epilogue**

It has been weeks since Quentin Beck and the whole ordeal in Europe, and Peter thought he might be finally starting to heal.

He was getting ready to go out with his friends, when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

The glasses on his desk lit up as if to project something on his wall, which had never happened before.

“Edith, what’s going on?”

_“It’s been six weeks, your message has been unlocked now.”_

“Message? _What message?”_

_“Would you like to see it now, Peter?”_

There was a pause as his breath caught in his throat, and all the hair on his neck stood up.

“Yes,” he said.

Then a recording started playing; a recording of the one person Peter was convinced he’d never ever see again.

Beck was grinning at him and Peter’s heart sank into his stomach.

If he hadn’t been prepared to see the man’s face again, he certainly wasn’t ready to hear his all too familiar smooth voice.

“Hello, Peter. Long time no see. Let me preface this by saying… _I am so proud of you, darling.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO HERE WE ARE, I COMPLETED A STORY, CAN I GET AN AMEN!  
> It has a bit of an open ending, you can choose for yourself what it means ;)
> 
> This was so much fun you guys, thank you so much to everyone that left kudos or a comment,  
> it means the world to me and this story put me a step closer to becoming a better writer and you were  
> all a part of it <333  
> Hope some of you stay tuned, because I have more stories to tell (including a very fun MJ x Mysterio fic that I'm currently planning)


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